


Of Winchesters and Witches

by Scribo_Vivere



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Rowena MacLeod, Dean has feelings, F/M, I'm Bad At Titles, Rowena Is Hurt, Sam Needs Headphones or Something, The Author Regrets Nothing, This Is My First Try At This Pairing, Top Dean Winchester, “You Got This! Bingo”
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 14:09:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19443016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribo_Vivere/pseuds/Scribo_Vivere
Summary: Dean never expected that tending to an injured frenemy would result in this.





	Of Winchesters and Witches

**Author's Note:**

> Square 1 for my “You Got This! Bingo” card given to me by xHaruka17x. Thank you, luv!

“You know, this would be a hell of a lot easier if you just stayed still.”

The pretty redheaded witch glared at Dean as he dabbed antiseptic on the ugly gashes that ran across her collarbone. Her words were clipped.

“This isn’t a wee cut, in case you haven’t noticed. I’ve been nearly made headless.”

“Oh, don’t be a drama queen. Sam saved your ass with plenty of time to spare. Your friends won’t be back to bother you.”

Rowena huffed and looked away. “I’d hardly call them ‘friends’. The ones who stand by you don’t attempt to end your life.”

Dean glanced at her. Though she tried to hide it, he could hear the sadness and disappointment in her voice as clear as day, and it struck a chord that he’d thought was long buried.

Rowena’s eyes flashed as she caught him staring. “Don’t you dare pity me.”

“Like you’d allow it even if I was.”

Her expression softened just a bit. “I suppose I should thank you for your help,” she admitted quietly. “I haven’t exactly been a model of gratitude.”  


Dean’s mouth quirked up slightly at the corners as he leaned in to inspect one particularly nasty wound. “You wouldn’t be the witch we know and love to hate if you were.”

“Oh, psh,” she scoffed, and flicked the tip of his left ear. Dean almost dropped everything in surprise, pulling back, and Rowena quirked an eyebrow.

Dean met her gaze, a foreign sensation welling up inside of him. He and the witch had always danced around what seemed to be some sort of grudging mutual attraction, but being this close to the other woman was making it extremely difficult to deny it.

Rowena’s voice was slightly breathless as she spoke. She found herself oddly excited about the man’s intense green stare, and the prospect of what it might mean. 

“Well, don’t be shy, dearie. I am a woman, after all.”

Dean had apparently been waiting for the invitation, because in the next moment, his lips had come crashing down on hers.

He found no resistance on her part; if anything, Rowena was more eager than he was, her small hands winding in his short hair and tugging hard enough to hurt. Dean growled at the pleasurable sting, and his groin filled with heat. Acting on a base, primal instinct, he picked the witch up bodily and trapped her against the nearest wall, heart pounding and his head swimming with desire, before he started to grapple with the heavy material of her dress.

“Help me with this damn thing,” he spat in irritation, and Rowena laughed, the sound like chimes in a storm. 

“What, a big, strong man such as yourself can’t figure out how to undress a lady?”

The taunt made Dean bare his teeth in frustration, and he yanked unceremoniously at the hem of the offending garment. Whether by the witch’s magic or because he’d simply hit a seam, it tore in just the right place. Dean’s mouth watered as Rowena’s smooth thighs were revealed, and he nearly choked as he realized she wore nothing underneath but small, red lace panties that barely covered her. 

Rowena smiled as he eyed her hungrily. “See something you like?” she asked sweetly.

Dean could think of nothing he wanted more than to wipe that self-satisfied look off her face. Barely able to speak, he bit out, “Everything,” before shoving the underwear aside and plunging two fingers inside her.

The witch gasped, and the sound was like sweet music to Dean’s ears. He began to scissor those fingers, and Rowena’s ensuing moan as he hit her clit made his ego rise high--along with his sorely neglected cock. 

The hunter hissed and jerked as her hands suddenly pulled him free from the confines of his jeans, and Dean quickly realized that, centuries-old witch or not, she knew exactly what she was doing. She soon found a rhythm that exactly matched Dean’s own when he jerked off, and it sent a shudder through him as he bucked up into her touch. 

“Why don’t you put this to good use?” Rowena whispered.

A groan of pure need escaped Dean as he sheathed himself fully into her warmth. Her answering whine was just as desperate, and when she scraped her nails down his back, Dean felt it even through his flannel shirt. He grit his teeth as her inner walls tightened around him with every thrust, and the urge to move faster and surge deeper took hold.

“Do it,” Rowena begged, and Dean was lost.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on in a near death grip as Dean pounded into her. The encouraging whimpers and unabashed pleasure-filled cries she gave pushed him closer and closer to completion.

He was unprepared for the feel of her perfect teeth in his neck, and it drove him over the edge instantly. He snarled and shook as he came, and as he slowly recovered, he realized that he’d milked more than one orgasm from the witch, if her violently trembling form was any indication.

For some moments, only the sounds of their heavy breathing could be heard, and then Rowena unwound her limbs from his, stretching languidly. Dean watched as her full breasts strained against the material of her now ruined dress, and she chuckled.

“Such an appetite,” she drawled. “Do you have no refractory period?”

Dean snorted and gently pulled out, wincing as he tucked his overstimulated member back into his underwear. “A man can admire without touching.”

He undressed to his t-shirt and boxers and collapsed onto the bed, and after a moment’s hesitation, patted the space next to him. 

Rowena raised a slim brow. “Are you offering for me to stay? Isn’t that quite out of character for you?”

Dean closed his eyes as exhaustion set in, a tiny smile on his lips. “If you want this to happen again, it’s easier to not have separate rooms.”

When he heard nothing, Dean figured she’d gotten cold feet and left. But then the mattress dipped, and he felt her hand on his chest, idly tracing patterns there. It was a strange occurrence to have the witch in his bed, but Dean found that he didn’t mind her body heat next to him. 

Just before he drifted off, Dean heard his cellphone buzz. He fumbled for it on the nightstand, and found it lit up with a message.

_Buy me earplugs._

Dean grinned, and typed a message in return.

_What’s the matter, Sammy? Don’t like the idea of a little MAGIC in the bedroom?_

Seconds later, his phone buzzed again, and this time, the reply made Dean laugh out loud.

_Oh,_ **_gross!!_ **

Rowena hummed sleepily beside him. “Mm, what is it?”  


Dean chuckled. “Oh, nothing. Just Sam informing me that we need to keep it down the next round.”

She opened her eyes as Dean’s breathing became deep and slow, and watched for a few moments as the hunter slept, reflecting.

Not everyone could accept her past or present, but the hunter had chosen to include her in his future, and for that, she was grateful. 


End file.
